


Laundry Day

by startabby



Series: The Big Short Stories [6]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Gen, inspired by a song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 11:11:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12253170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startabby/pseuds/startabby
Summary: Meet-cute one-shot. Clint Barton and Phil Coulson in a SHIELD laundry room.Inspired by the song "Laundry Day" in Dr. Horrible's Sing Along Blog.The Big Short Challenge Prompt: Lint





	Laundry Day

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Big Short Challenge on Rough Trade (http://www.roughtrade.org/)'s forum, which called for a 500-1000 word story given a one word prompt.

* * *

_Laundry Day                      See You There                    Underthings                       Tumbling_

“Hello there,”

The greeting startled Clint from where he sat perched on a table in the corner of the base laundry. “Oh, um hi,” his response was lackluster and distracted as he’d been staring engrossed in the hypnotic spin of the washing machines.

He had just come in from a particularly exhausting mission, not especially dangerous but long and filled with physically draining tasks. His gear had all been covered in mud and other miscellaneous gunk thanks to the mission, so a session with the base machines was a necessity.

Having just dumped everything from his duffel into the machine, he had been staring while trying not to fall asleep as he waited for the cycle to finish.

_Wanna Say                         Love Your Hair                   Here I Go                             Mumbling_

Eventually he emerged from his exhausted haze enough to look up and see who had spoken to him. When he did, Clint nearly fell off the table in shock. There standing in front of him was the… well to put it bluntly, the man of his literal dreams. Ever since Agent Coulson, Phil, had shown up in his dumpy flat in East Berlin to recruit him into joining SHIELD, the man had made regular appearances in his daydreams and his… ahem… fantasies.

Despite his rather embarrassing crush on the man, Clint had never managed to work up the guts to approach him for anything other than work. Yet here Coulson stood, talking to him.

“Did you need something, sir?” Maybe it was a mission question.

“Not at all, Specialist Barton, just here for the same reason you are.”

“Ah…”

“Laundry.”

“Oh, right, laundry…” Clint gulped, ‘great, now I sound like an idiot,’ he thought.

_With My Freeze Ray I Will                             Stop the World_

_With My Freeze Ray I Will                             Find the Time to Find the Words To_

“Yes. I’ve been trapped on base for long enough to use up all the clean clothes that I have stashed here.”

“Trapped here, sir?” ‘Too curious? Inappropriate?’ Clint worried even as the words left his mouth.

“You can call me Phil, Barton. And yes, trapped as in having to spend nights here instead of going home due to being on-call for several ongoing missions. ”

“Oh, I see, sir,” Phil raised a single eyebrow and Clint backpedaled rapidly. “I mean, Phil.”

“I assume that you’re doing the same?”

Phil’s question made Clint freeze again. ‘Crap, what am I allowed to tell him? With his clearance level… Right, everything but mission details is safe.’

“Sort of, I mean, I just got back from a mission, and, well,” Clint gestured to his duffel, where the laundry in the machine had previously been stashed. The truth was that he didn’t actually have a home, just quarters on base where he stayed between missions.

“Ah, yes. Prague, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, sir. Phil, I mean. And, well, I am Clint, not Barton,” he shuddered a little. People calling him by his last name in this context brought back too many bad memories from his time before SHIELD.

“Clint, then,” Phil’s smile at his words made the butterflies in Clint’s stomach churn.

_Tell You How                      How You Make                                 Make Me Feel                    What’s the Phrase_

_Like a Fool                           Kind of Sick                                         Special Needs                    Anyways_

“I happened to be in mission control when the call came in from your team regarding extraction,” Phil went on to explain. Apparently oblivious to the impact that his continued interaction was having on his companion, the senior agent had relaxed as he spoke.

“You know, I don’t think we’ve had a chance to speak since you formally joined SHIELD’s ranks. How have you settled in here? Everything working out as we’d discussed?”

‘He remembers,’ Clint thought, excitedly, before his rational mind corrected. ‘Of course he remembers, it’s part of his job, nothing more.’

“Yeah! I mean, well, the missions have been good… um…”

“At ease there, Clint, this isn’t a debrief. I’m just curious,” Phil laid his hand on Clint’s knee to calm the jiggling that he’d started doing.

“Oh…” Clint froze, ‘that doesn’t mean what I wish it did, does it?’ he thought wildly.

Both men were distracted by the sound of Phil’s dryer announcing the completion of its cycle.

Phil unloaded his machine, folding his clothes as he went and filling a bag with the clean laundry. When he finished, he headed towards the door before turning and looking at Clint.

“I have to get back to Control, but I wonder Clint, if you would be interested in joining me for dinner this evening. It won’t be anything fancy since I have to remain on base, but I have kitchen privileges, or we could just order in.”

_With My Freeze Ray I Will                             Stop_

Clint’s heartbeat stuttered, and he just nodded dumbly. His mouth had gone dry, making speech difficult.

“Oh… And if I wasn’t clear; it would be a date.” Phil flicked a bit of lint off his suit sleeve before disappearing out the door.

Behind him, Clint jumped to his feet, pumping his fist in the air with a wide grin stretching across his face. ‘Aw, Phil, yes!’

 


End file.
